"Perhaps, but something could have been hidden in that snowdrift."

A bollard, a knocked-over bicycle, a large rock, a murder victim... There were many possibilities, most which would be hard and painful to fall into.

Since Vermouth knows Conan likes to keep his secrets, she doesn't fully believe him. She brushes his bangs back, hand on the side of his face, as she scrutinizes it for cuts or scrapes. Her gaze is awfully intense as she checks.